Apologies
by Clockwork Spades
Summary: An alien custom leads to discomfort between a captain and his first officer. Jealousy, perhaps? Alfred had always been told to be more careful with his words. Star Trek AU. Loosely based off a scene from TOS


"It's my fault—" Alfred was laughing, waving off the alien beside him who had apparently embarrassed themselves by spilling soup on the Starfleet captain's shirt. They had a cloth, dabbing at the stain on Alfred's golden shirt, despite the latter's insistence that it was not at all a big deal.

From the other side of the room, Arthur was very poorly concealing a glare. They'd arrived on the planet that morning, a peaceful encounter the starfleet crew had been welcomed into, invited to remain for an evidently traditional feast.

This was how Arthur had ended up watching Alfred…_interact _with the people for the past couple of hours. Jealous wasn't a word Arthur would accept applied to himself, he wasn't, he was just the only person on the crew who realised how inappropriate their captain was being.

Alfred was a flirtatious man by nature, he didn't even know he was doing it half the time, despite the fact that the alien beside him had been displaying quite human reactions to his words. Which was why Arthur was practically seething now as he watched the man beside Alfred pat down his chest, Alfred's wide, charming smile still in place.

It was one thing to watch Alfred's harmless flirtation, the physical contact was another. Not to mention the fact that Arthur was certain that the soup had been spilled on purpose.

(It hadn't of course, it had been a complete accident in passing dishes across the table, but Arthur wasn't concerned by that.)

"It's not a problem, really." Alfred repeated, the alien beside him shaking his head.

"No, your shirt is dirtied." The alien seemed to give up with the dabbing, much to Arthur's relief – until the alien took hold of Alfred's face and lent close to press their lips together.

The aliens around the table didn't appear fazed; in fact hardly any of them seemed to notice. But the Starfleet crew froze, Alfred included.

Arthur's grip on his cup was almost sure to break the thing, but he tore his eyes away too soon to see the shock on Alfred's face when the alien pulled away. He was mumbling to himself under his breath, jabbing at his food now. Why was no one else as outraged as he was? It was—It was inappropriate behaviour! He argued internally, justifying his own discontented feelings to himself. It certainly wasn't because he was jealous that someone else was getting to be so close to Alfred that wasn't him. It wasn't jealousy that made him excuse himself, it was a heightened sense of decency, yes, that was it.

The other members of the table didn't seem to mind, or notice in the busy room. Aside from Alfred, his eyes following his first officer out of the room until the door shut behind him.

* * *

It was hours still before they left the planet and Arthur could honestly say he'd never been happier to be beamed aboard the ship. He had rather deliberately made sure he was positioned at the front, well aware of Alfred standing on the pad behind him once they arrived on the ship, but he paid no mind to that and made his way out of the teleport room as fast as possible without arousing suspicion.

No one questioned it, all of them making their way out at a regular pace, Arthur walked fast anyway, it wasn't a surprise. But Alfred noticed, without rushing after his first officer he made sure to follow which way Arthur went. The Englishman was headed towards the elevator, still silently fuming and hoping once he turned around in the turbo-lift that his captain was not headed in the same direction as he.

He wasn't so lucky.

"Hold it-!" Alfred called, jogging a bit to catch the lift before it left. He grinned as he slipped in before the door closed, wiping off his forehead and sighing comically as if to get a smile out of Arthur.

"Captain." Arthur greeted stiffly, eyes straight ahead as he watched the door close.

"Mr Kirkland." Alfred leant across to press the button for his desired floor. "You were quite eager to leave the welcome feast."

"You were quite eager to stay." Arthur responded too quickly, wincing as he immediately regretted his words – much to the amusement of his captain. "—I gather, sir." He hated referring to the younger man by the title, even if they were friends he still didn't understand how Alfred had reached the rank so young.

"Is that what you gather?" Alfred smiled, head tilting as he looked at the other, Arthur's face fiercely averted. "Is it a problem to be interested in another culture, Mr Kirkland?"

Arthur bit his tongue, giving a tight lipped expression as he looked up to Alfred. "No, sir."

"Then what's the issue?" He asked, stepping the slightest bit closer. "—Are you…Jealous?" He spoke slowly, searching for Arthur's gaze and smiling wider when a light flush dusted his cheeks.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Arthur scoffed, looking away deliberately.

"That kiss with the alien, I know you saw it just as well as the rest of the crew." Alfred paused, quite smug in the way Arthur refused to meet his eye. "It bothered you."

"Of course not!" Arthur snapped, looking up sharply, glare in place. "—Sir."

"You know, I had no idea that would happen. Actually I kinda wished it hadn't, ruined my shirt and that alien wasn't exactly the best kisser." Alfred chuckled, looking away for just a moment and giving Arthur the chance to avert his eyes again.

"It certainly looked like you thought that." Arthur again found himself unable to control speaking out of turn, muttered words oozing with irritated sarcasm.

There was a pause, Alfred slowly turning his head back to Arthur. "Is that so?" He spoke softly now, staring at the other. "I made you think that?"

"Yes sir."

Arthur replied stiffly, swallowing and willing the turbo-lift faster. He stared out of the little window, watching the decks pass at speed, only to become confused when the lift stopped between floors. A hand touched his chin, tilting his head away and Arthur caught a glimpse of Alfred's other hand on the 'stop' button.

"Well then. I'm sorry." Alfred breathed his words, giving just enough time for Arthur's breath to hitch before pressing their lips together.

* * *

_I really love Star Trek AUs and I'm not the slightest bit sorry_


End file.
